


Snapped

by Flowtonair



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Aimbot, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Character Study, Cheaters, Gen, Hacking, Humour, If you want to feel sorry for a character as they undergo shenanigans this is it, Some Swearing, Team Fortress Sentience, Violence, lenny face - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-21 19:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14291901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowtonair/pseuds/Flowtonair
Summary: His user's aim wasterribletoday. Sniper watched as they reacted just that second too slow, or too early. They had no sense of prediction whatsoever. The marksman puppet almost felt compelled to laugh.But then something strange occurred.Sniper stood completely still, unscoped.





	1. Round One: pl_upward

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [TF2 - Spot the Hacker (Part 1? Maybe?)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/370703) by Max Box. 
  * Inspired by [TF2: Bots - A Documentary](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/372774) by NISLT (But made by TooManyMoths). 



> This series was inspired by MaxBox's "How to spot a Hacker" video series and by TooManyMoth's TF2 Bot Documentaries! It was also inspired by the many OFF (Mortis Ghost) fanfictions featuring the Player. Please go check out their very informative and funny videos, and Mortis Ghost's fantastic RPG Maker 2003 game. Enjoy!

It was a beautiful, fresh day in the Badlands.

Well, a computer-generated one anyways.

The RED and BLU spawns of Upward were quickly filled with its respective players. A BLU Sniper spawned, feeling energized and ready to work. He looked around at his team as he was led towards the gates by an unseen force. A couple of hat-wearing Soldiers with unusuals, a standard Medic, two Scouts in lime cosmetics, a Spy and another Sniper, with a cool haircut. They were all jumping around the base, some taunting and others rocket jumping and injuring themselves.

Sniper looked down at himself. What was he wearing?

Oh. Pyrovision Goggles and..

Sniper reached up to touch his hat.

A Ghostly Gibus.

 _"It's no worries,"_ Sniper thought to himself as his hands were gently prompted by the person behind the keyboard to check out his rifle. He sees he was also equipped with his normal SMG and Kukri. _"They're just new. It'll be okay."_

Sniper had gotten used to being many the choice of new players, a majority of which had bad aim. But he could always feel a smile on his face when he felt them start to improve. It would usually come with a switch to the Huntsman and some other rifles he had, like the Sydney Sleeper, designed to help these poor blokes out. But it would not be long before his trusty rifle would return into his hands for some _real_ headshots.

"Start fighting now!" The Announcer called over the loudspeakers. Sniper snapped out of his thoughts as his body was propelled to exit the side gates, and started trying to cover his team as they pushed the cart along.

“Bloody hell, you’re awful.” Sniper chuckled to himself, as he watched some RED’s going down to the BLU’s. And also to his player.

His user's aim was _terrible_ today. Sniper watched as they reacted just that second too slow, or too early. They had no sense of prediction whatsoever. The marksman puppet almost felt compelled to laugh.

But then something strange occurred.

Sniper stood completely still, unscoped.

 _"Wot's going on?"_ He thought to himself as he stayed perfectly in place. His user was certainly doing something on the keyboard but he was no part of it. Were they messaging someone, or something? In the middle of a bloody match?! He watched his team die to the RED's, and he squeezed his eyes shut as a random crit rocket flew towards him.

After a few moments, Sniper respawned. He didn't have to wait long for something to happen.

 _"W-Wot's happenin' to me?!"_ Sniper's eyes widened as his body began to twitch and jerk. His user's touch felt--unnatural--forced--calculated--robotic.

Sniper was jolted to exit the side gate and he saw his team pushing the payload fairly well. He was internally pleased. He finally set up shop on a small ledge and began to strafe.

Sniper's arms moved to lift up his gun.

The moment the rifle was scoped in, it snapped into position on an enemy head and fired away.

 **Boom.** Headshot.

Reload.

 **Boom.** Another one.

Reload. **Boom.** Reload. **Boom.** Reload. **Boom.**

Sniper felt wildly disturbed, even after the initial feelings wore off. The forced and robotic hold on his shoulders still remained, and his legs were made to run forward again. He almost tripped over himself by how rigidly he ran, how unnatural it was. He advanced forward, a bit ahead of his team.

Sniper felt disgusted yet worried. This wasn't his player. What happened to them? Headshots aren't made by harshly whipping to people's heads. They take time and practice. A steady, fluid aim.

His head was filled with text and voices from other players on the server, ranting about him, and his user. He winced as players raged on their microphones, and gulped upon feeling eyes watching him. Some people had gone spectator to observe him and his player.

“They’re totally hacking, BLU team, can you kick that Sniper?” Someone said aloud.

“kick” A BLU Soldier’s user wrote into text.

“no way your just jealous your losing” The BLU Spy’s controller typed in. It was true. Sniper was indeed picking off the RED team with relative ease.

“Someone start the votekick” The RED Heavy’s person typed in.

 _“Please, Oi don’t want any more of this..!”_ Sniper squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that would stop the weird things happening to him. He groaned upon feeling his hands take another shot, and the sound of a dying Scout rang through the air.

Suddenly, the sound of drums filled his ears.

 _“Oh thank God.”_ Sniper sighed in relief as he heard the counts pouring in, leaning towards kicking his player. Sniper’s owner finally typed their first words into the chat.

“wow dicks u guys r fuckin killjoys”

Sniper could **not** care less. As his body ragdolled from death, he sank to his knees with relief, feeling the instant snap of his player’s strings on him. He collapsed, and descended into darkness, until he was to be used again.

He prayed next time would be different.


	2. Round Two: pl_borneo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper's user takes him out for a spin.

It was a cloudy day.

As it normally is, in Borneo.

This time, the chosen one is spawned into RED team. The fight was already under way, and the Sniper smirked, awaiting the battlefield somewhere ahead.

This particular Sniper is completely decked out in his standard set. No cosmetics, and no deviation from his stock weapons. Nothing special.

He tapped his foot for a moment, shifting his weight on his heels before his player's touch rested itself on his shoulders. He rolled his shoulders. It seemed they had been waiting for him to spawn, or had come from the loo.

 _"Let's get going!"_ Sniper thought to himself as his user urged him to exit spawn, and follow the tracks to where the battle was. The cart was nearing the first cap, and Sniper eyed several potential sniping spots.

He moved near one, and stood behind a wall, out of sight. Sniper was ready to peek out from behind, but he realised he was still a fair ways ahead of the cart, and where anybody was. Or maybe his player was planning on watching out for any flanking mercenaries? Of course! That would be a smart plan. Right?

_Right?_

_"Wot's going on?"_ Sniper looked upwards, towards the brim of his hat. He had felt their hands leave the keyboard for a second, perhaps to stretch, he hoped, before getting back on the keys.

Suddenly, a weird feeling washed over Sniper, up from his legs, and a shudder ran through him.

 _"Not again...!"_ Sniper groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Oh boy. What was going to happen now? Was he going to snap his sights instantly on people's heads again? Was he going to feel restrained again in his own body?

For a few, brief seconds, nothing happened. Sniper held his breath and opened one eye.

And then everything took a turn for the worse.

In this case, he turned on his heel.

Sniper spun around, and again, and again, wildly, and he waved his arms and head around, like a headless chicken. He yelled outwardly, but because he did not have a voice prompt for this situation, his screams came out in silence.

“Stop the bloody bomb!” Sniper instead called stupidly, more to himself. Maybe that would encourage his player to stop this nonsense, or to get going.

Still spinning, Sniper jittered and wobbled as he jumped out of his hiding spot and rushed like a tornado towards the battlefield. Sniper’s arms whipped up to his face and he let out a silent cry of pain as the scope smashed into his aviators and thus, into his face. He finally looked through the lens, felt himself snap to an enemy and his finger clenched down on the trigger.

Sniper’s gaze was directly upward as he continued to be the human-equivalent of a hurricane as his shaky hands were forced to reload his rifle, before looking into his scope again. Everything happened too fast for Sniper, looking to an enemy and firing in a matter of milliseconds.

“What’s up with that guy?” Someone said on voice chat, while waiting for their BLU avatar to respawn.

“theyre hacking” One of the people on RED typed out.

“( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” Sniper’s user typed that into chat, and continued to several times. The spinning top puppet was confused. His player prompted him to taunt, and Sniper whirled to a complete stop, facing a wall, completely facing away from the battlefield. His arm with the rifle whipped downward and he struggled to move his hand up in the air.

“Thanks for standin’ still, wanker!” Sniper dizzily waved, forcing his wobbly legs to keep straight. He swore to himself. He felt as weak as a newborn lamb. If it weren’t for their strings, Sniper believed he would have probably fallen over. The world spun around him and he let out a cry of frustration as he returned to whirling and running around, landing more headshots.

“kick darklord” A person said in chat. Sniper found that to be a ridiculous username.

 _“Oh t-thank God, yes.”_ He groaned shakily in relief as he heard drums fill the air, and was hoping the people could vote quickly to get rid of him. _“Let this be over and done with already!”_

But fate would not let him have this.

 _“No--No please! Please!"_ Sniper begged, seeing the counts stack for not kicking his player. _“Please make this bloody stop!”_

“Why the hell did you guys vote no?!” A RED Engineer’s female user shouted at their team.

“who cares we’re winning” Sniper’s user typed into chat as he spun around helplessly. “( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” 

“hey does anybody want to trade” Someone wrote into chat.

 _“This ain’t the bloody **toime** for that!”_ Sniper felt his blood begin to boil. But alas, his solution came quickly. People had reported his user and the last thing he saw in the chat was his player’s VAC ban.

The strings, once again, snapped from the lanky Australian and he ragdolled, hurling himself into a wall from the momentum. If he had anything in his stomach, he would have thrown it up then.

The puppet gave himself into the darkness willingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to give kudos and perhaps a comment~? Awww man. I feel so bad for the guy.  
> Hopefully next time will be different.


	3. Round Three: ctf_2fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper would not believe his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going back and making all of his thoughts in italics to make it clearer for readers! So look out for that. Enjoy!

The two fortresses stood tall and imposing, as always, on this computer-generated day. Never changing, the most iconic battlefield was once again hosting another humble battle on its grounds. The cardboard cows let out automated moo’s and the sounds of rushing water filled the bridge area. The birds chirped as the familiar faces of Teufort spawned into the map.

 _“Third time’s the charm!”_ A BLU Sniper spawned into his base. He was determined for things to go well for him this time. He was an optimistic little bugger - his past experiences would, and will not drag him down.

The marksman was pleased to see he had actual cosmetics on - a comfortable Poacher’s Safari vest, perfect for the sunny weather, and a Trophy belt on his head. In his hands, he held a worn camo-painted Sniper rifle, and found he was equipped with Jarate and his standard Kukri. _“Now this is a solid set.”_ Sniper whistled silently, praising his user’s choice in fashion. _“Today looks promisin’.”_

Sniper was gently pushed towards the battlements, the natural home of the support class. There, he set up shop, calmly strafing and firing off shots. Some good meat shots, a few head shots, a couple of misses; Sniper felt happy. Finally. A normal, genuine person, playing the class how it should be played.

A Scout--!

**_Boom._ **

…

That was… weird.

Sniper reloaded his gun, looking intently at the dead Scout inside the entrance of RED’s base. The player reacted fast, faster than he registered the boy! _Was that…?_ No. Sniper shook his head a little.

A Demoman emerged from the entrance, firing pills towards the Heavy and Medic duo on the bridge. Sniper smirked. The Demoman stepped to and fro a bit, but eventually stood still once his sights landed on him.

“Hold still.” Sniper fired away, and nodded to himself in satisfaction. That felt right.  
He forgot his doubts as his player aced a couple more hits, and also missed a few. Everything seemed perfectly normal after that weird short from earlier. Maybe he was just imagining things.

 _"Now this player Oi can trust."_ Sniper said to himself as he lined up another headshot to a Soldier about to rocket jump across the map. “Steady, steady...” He whispered to them. He felt their aim shake a little, and smiled softly. The Soldier rocket jumped and his user flicked upwards to aim at the head.

**_Boom._ **

Sniper’s brows furrowed as he reloaded. Did... Did he land that? There was a weird twitch in his fingers when he fired. 

_“One more. One more. This can’t just be me...”_ Sniper looked through his sights again, and carefully watched his player’s movements--

“GRAAAAAAAAAGH!” Sniper screamed in agony as he reached over his shoulder feeling the rush of a butterfly knife digging into his back, before being ripped out. He fell forward, landing painfully on the dirt ground below. He heard the RED Spy taunt behind him.

With a deeply-set frown on his face, Sniper respawned. He envisioned the kill feed in his head and was satisfied to hear the distant scream of that RED Spy die. He rushed out, also determined to watch his player’s actions carefully this time.

He reached the battlements, but stopped at the doorway for a moment. The user did something on their keyboard - and Sniper rolled his eyes a little. What now?

Everything seemed fine until Sniper blinked.

 _“W-Wot..”_ He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as he padded to his spot on the battlements and began to strafe. He blearily opened them. He felt a tightening, uncomfortable sensation in his eyes when he opened them. _“Wot the bloody hell is going on anymore?!”_

Nametags, health bars and the outlines of players were visible through the walls of the RED base. Sniper stared wide eyed as his owner moved to aim at people’s heads, and fired. He predicted the players because he was looking through the walls now! His eyes began to hurt, and he tried to blink, but only felt pangs of pain and tears. He shook his head, remembering his purpose. They weren’t looking through walls earlier.

There was his chance.

A Soldier rocket jumped through the air. The was no predicting them from coming behind a wall - now Sniper could _really_ see what was happening. When his sights moved over the Soldier’s head… the shot fired, but not where he was exactly aiming at. The bullet… came out of his gun and swerved left! And his user flicked over the enemy’s to pretend they had shot them! Sniper confirmed this twice over. It was slightly difficult to, seeing as how keeping his eyeballs wide open was a mighty painful experience. He was fortunate there was no wind in Teufort - if sand got into his eyes, it would have been much worse.

 _“This guy is bloody cheatin’!”_ Sniper scowled, blinking the tears away. _“That ratbag, wish Oi could do somethin’ abou’ it but Oi’m just sittin’ ‘ere!"_

“Hey i think that sniper’s hacking” The RED Soldier wrote into chat. To Sniper’s surprise, his player moved him out of sight and typed into chat.

“No im not??? wow”

“Yeh they missed a few shots ur just salty” A RED Sniper wrote as well.

 _“No! They’re bloody cheatin’!”_ Sniper felt his blood boil and he growled. “Oof!” He stumbled and unscoped, quickly pulling out his Jarate and Kukri to kill the Spy. His player chased him down into the sewers, and the Spy turned invisible. _“Let me **bloody** guess.”_

The Spy had a clear RED outline.

Of _course_ he did.

Sniper looked incredulous as he struck the invisible Spy perfectly. For once, he almost felt bad for the spooks. His player tapped ‘G’ and Sniper’s feet snapped together as he took off his hat and placed it over his chest.

“You’d best keep lyin’ down.” Sniper taunted to the dead Spy. _“Oi’d rather BE layin’ down myself. In the darkness.”_ He grumbled.

The match continued on in this way, for another excruciating half an hour. Sniper cursed the neverending nature of capture the flag. He felt so relieved dying. Just to get a chance to rest his eyes in the comforting veil of darkness.

It would never last long, and Sniper groaned every time he respawned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please remember to leave a kudos and a comment, as usual~
> 
> Because I know there are people like me out there, thanks to the people who also read without leaving anything.  
> Maybe secretly you share fics with your friends, or you just check on AO3 often for what you like.  
> The thought of that fills me with a silent joy.


	4. Round Four: koth_viaduct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper gets to set his sights on someone else this time.

It was springtime in Viaduct.

The map was peaceful. If it were a real place, it would have been in the late stages of thawing out to spring, however maps didn’t work that way. There was a snow mode, and a normal mode. And it was in this springtime mode that the mercenaries spawned, eager to begin yet another exciting battle for a single capture point.

A Sniper, with a uniform he swore was as red as his eyes felt, spawned with a stagger into Viaduct. Sniper praised the lord--his lord, Gaben, for his player’s absence as he dropped his bow and arrow and rubbed his eyes. He dashed over to the refill cabinet and hurriedly dug out the med kit. He looked around him and was thankful nobody was around to see him utterly disobey his programming. Whoever the RED’s were out in the battlefield - they were good.

 _“Come on--where the bloody hell are they?!”_ Sniper haphazardly threw things into the cabinet as he searched hastily through the kit. _“Ah hah!”_ Sniper plucked out a bottle of eye-drops, meant to relieve the eyes. He hung his head back and carefully put in two drops, blinking painfully as he prayed their effect worked fast. He groaned in relief after the initial sting and let his eyes close, feeling the pain slowly, but still, begin to lessen. At least he knew where the bloody drops were in case it ever happened again. He debated putting it into his pocket but chose not to, just in case.

There was not enough time for him to take any painkillers - his player had left their voice chat open, as some did by accident at the start of the round and he heard footsteps approach. He stuffed the medkit back into the cabinet and slammed it closed, before rushing to his place and picking up his Huntsman. He let out a sigh of relief as he positioned himself in time, and the affirming press on his shoulders told him his player had not seen a thing.

Sniper took a quick moment to examine his person. He properly realised that he was carrying the Huntsman, and smiled to see he was in the Archer set - a Larrikin Robin on his head, and he was wearing the comfy Archer’s Groundings. After his recent battles with the rifle, it was nice to be holding his sturdy bow. He was surprised to see a Scoped Spartan on his back. He carried Jarate and the Bushwacka.

The marksman frowned. The last time he wore actual cosmetics, well… Sniper could still feel its effects on his eyes. He saw a couple of his allies respawn around him, and his user finally decided it was time to go. Sniper was urged to exit spawn and head into the wooden exits on the left.

 _"Let this be a bloody normal match. Let this be a bloody normal match. Let this be a bloody norm--"_ Sniper did not get to finish the third repetition of his mantra after he barely took a step into the battlefield. Several minigun bullets pierced his head as he spun around and faceplanted onto the floor, already dead. His cape fluttered over his head.

 _"Wot just happened?!"_ Sniper stared ahead at the metal rolling door in confusion when he respawned. He didn't even see the Heavy, how could--

 _“No, no. Just a lucky shot.”_ Sniper was marched out of base. _“Oi’ll get him this time.”_

This time, the player peeked before heading out the right entrance to the Sniper nest up the rocky spiral. He heard the Heavy firing his minigun at the other RED mercenaries while he hid behind cover. His player prompted him to draw back his arrow and strafe left, taking aim at the Heavy.

_Fwoom!_

“Aaaaargh, Med-aaaah..” The BLU Heavy collapsed to the floor, arrow pierced through to the other side of his skull, and RED archer grinned at the sight. He continued to cover his team as they respawned, and his player activated a voice prompt for him when they captured the point.

“Good job!” He called to his team. “Nice going!”

Sniper and his player picked up the sound of a revving mini gun, and he readied himself, scanning the surroundings. The Heavy’s head finally emerged, kept warm under a pom pom hat. He was firing away at the RED team and Sniper released his arrow. Unfortunately, it just passed behind his head.

But something else occurred too.

Sniper watched the bullets move in slow motion, taking in every detail. The yellow bullets were firing ahead at his teammates, but when they had died, suddenly a few flew towards him.

And the minigun wasn’t even facing his way.

“Ourgh--Argh!” Sniper hid behind cover, after taking a few bullets to the torso. He breathed shakily but endured the pain, knowing it did not take much of his health. He peeked out again, letting another arrow fly towards the Heavy. It landed, sticking in his bicep, but the Heavy was unfazed. A Medic quickly joined him approaching the capture point.

“heavy medic on the point” His user typed in. Sniper flinched hearing the bullets fly into the corrugated sheet metal behind him, as he stood with his back to it, looking out for Spies as his player typed. He took a moment to think about the Heavy’s behaviour.

Restricted movement, robotic snaps to players, bullets flying in all directions...

That meant it was now _his_ turn to face a cheatin' wanker.

The BLU team captured the point and Sniper turned around to peek and rain arrows down on them, however the Heavy’s sights instantly locked onto him and Sniper immediately found himself filled with bullets.

 _“Ya fat jigglin’ butterball. You’re gonna be nothin’ but a foine red mist.”_ Sniper tensed his shoulders up when he respawned. He pictured the Defense class’ face as he stormed out of spawn, which further filled him with rage.

He was determined to kill the cheater. And apparently, so was his player.

Sniper and his user began to get more involved in the match, all the while asking for the Heavy’s kick after it was confirmed he was hacking. The RED team played more offensively and persistently defended the point. They were all so focused on destroying the BLU’s and their cheating Heavy, who has swapped to different classes as well, to notice the time running out. They faced some difficulty at times; the BLU team would bounce back, but the RED’s proved overall too powerful for them.

“Victory.” The Announcer stated.

“Ha hah! We showed them, didn’t we?” Sniper cheered as his Huntsman glowed an electric red, filled with the power of critical hits. He hunted down the BLU team with delight into their base, and his player tapped ‘G’. With pleasure, Sniper whipped an arrow back and twirled it in his hand before stabbing it into his enemy. “Stab, stab, stab!” Sniper smirked before ripping it out of his unfortunate foe, who died instantly. It happened to be the very same BLU Heavy he had been targeting for the whole match, which made it even more fulfilling for the caped marksman. _“You shouldn’t even have gotten out of bed.”_

Sniper relished the satisfaction of their victory, but the smile slowly faded from his face. He realised an awful reality.

No matter where he went, no matter what match he was in, there was going to be a cheater. 

And he was going to have to get used to that fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment~!


	5. Round Five: cp_gravelpit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper is faced with an overwhelming reality.

The light source in the skybox shown brightly, like a midday sun, onto the grounds of Gravel Pit. The rickety wooden structures, though old, stood their ground against the Badland heat for the countless battles that took place in it. And another one was to occur today.

And it was also in this place, where Sniper would finally snap.

Sniper did not anticipate what would occur the moment he spawned onto the map. The instant his boots sounded on the metal flooring of the BLU spawn, Sniper felt shivers go up his spine, and his eyes beginning to ache and tighten. He lost all of his free control that would come from being fluidly controlled by a normal player - he discovered through the hard way that these “hacks” and “aimbots” completely dominated his physical movements. All he could do was watch, trapped in his own body.

 _"Hope someone picks up on this bloody hacking bastard quickly."_ Sniper grumbled to himself, as his user maneuvered his body forward out of spawn, to the right entrance of the area to Control Point A. His eyes twitched as he blinked, and he let out a shuddering breath as the pain returned.

He watched as his player swiftly lifted up his rifle and began to land immediate headshots on every player. They controlled their puppet like a robot, and stood rooted in place, since nobody could land a hit on them before their brains were blown out. They of course had the advantage of seeing the RED members emerge from the tunnels leading to Point A. Sniper blinked and tried to resist the pain, but he felt his eyes start to water. He supposed it was better for them to be - he would hate to see a wind pick up in the map and kick up the dirt and make his eye condition worse.

 _"Bloody hell, he's not even trying to hide it!"_ Sniper mentally and exasperatingly urged the players around him to notice his user's absurd kill streak. _"Why aren't any of you blokes seeing this?!"_ His player tapped the 'E' key. 

"( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)" They wrote. "☐ Not REKT ☑ REKT" They added. His player tapped several different keys on their keyboard for different binds. "git gud"

 _"That's a new one."_ Sniper sourly thought as they continued to land their shots.

The BLU team finally capped the first point, and were moving on to the next. The marksman was moved back towards spawn to the path for Capture Point B. He dropped down, the Sniper barely registering the pain in his ankles due to the overwhelming pain in his eyes. He didn’t have much time to recover since his horrible time at Teufort - his eyes just can’t take that much strain in a day! Sniper felt a headache coming on.

 _"Finally."_ Sniper would embrace the crit rocket racing towards him if he could, killing him instantly. He sighed in relief as he rested his eyes in death, but the seconds slipped away too quickly for his liking. He reawakened in spawn, and without a moment's hesitation, his user smashed down the 'W' key, marching him forward. Sniper tried to avoid looking around in his vain attempts to not worsen the pain, let alone damage his vision.

 _"Hang on a moment..."_ Sniper looked carefully at the RED Soldier guarding Capture Point B, and he saw the rockets fly towards his body. Except, they weren't normal rockets.

They were all crit rockets.

 _"Another bloody cheater?!"_ Sniper squeezed his eyes shut before the rockets reached him, and was thankful his death was over extremely quickly. Safe in the veil of darkness, Sniper began to recall the actions of the other players, thinking about the other players. Did he see more critical hits flying around than normal? That Soldier definitely… Were any bullets flying in weird directions? Sniper would need to re-confirm this.

Sniper respawned, and he barely stepped out of their small spawn area before a Scout at their door fired as they stepped out into the tunnels. Of course, his player had already known they were there, and had already lined up a shot. The Scout moved too quickly, yet the rifle's bullet veered off the crosshairs and hit him, albeit being a body shot. The puppet was forced to pull out his SMG, which was kept unnaturally aimed on the Scout who jumped and fired away with his pistol.

A Demoman arrived to pop a pill at the Scout, ending him. Sniper noticed that the Demoman landed his pill almost _too_ well, considering he was still inside the spawn area when he fired. The lanky Australian headed back into spawn to touch the Refill cabinet and quickly back to Point B. The BLU team was stabilizing the point and Sniper fired away at the RED mercenaries, strafing and hiding behind the metal building to cover his team.

At last, the point was captured and everyone made their way to Point C. As the battle advanced, Sniper watched, agape as he saw all the signs of cheating and hacking he had picked up over the course of his "several lives". Players predicting each other through seeing through walls, people landing perfect shots, and critical hits. He recognised the players who didn't have such "abilities", who died easily and quickly, and left the match instead of trying to kick the multiple cheaters on the server.

Victory was sour in the Bushman's mouth as his controller giddily killed the remaining RED's. It was a rubbish victory. Everything about it was wrong and undeserved.

"And that's how you win a game!" The automated words spilled from Sniper's mouth. _"No it is **not!** "_ Sniper rebutted his own winning line. _"That's some shonky business right there! It's bloody dodgy, is what it is!”_

As Sniper continued to watch the following matches, he seethed. The burning pain in his eyes reflected the deep rage he felt deep down in his heart, bubbling away as he struggled to keep patient. He felt helpless as he knew that he could not do anything in his current state. And even then… what was he going to do? The support class realised the hopelessness of the situation and steadily begun a path downward into a bitter state of mind.

_"Is it really so hard to have a good honest game anymore?"_


	6. Final Round: cp_gorge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper is reminded of something very important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the week of absence was purely because I was trying to come up with a good ending. Hopefully it's worth the wait! Enjoy!!

Gorge was the picture of a perfect picnic day - the brilliant blue of the skybox, the warm shining light source, the parted clouds… it was a shame the mercenaries had to pick up their weapons rather than their picnic baskets. The two metallic circle plates lay waiting for the stomp of the fighters’ boots upon them in a classic round of capture the points in Team Fortress 2.

Our fated Sniper has gone through several weeks of harsh treatment from his owners. It was all he could remember, aside from the pain he felt. Of course, he was grateful for the ones who played his class the way he believed it should be played; pure skill, and no cheats to give themselves an unfair advantage. The marksman was heartbroken and outraged at the rampant cheating he observed in his matches, and constantly felt like a prisoner in his own body. He couldn’t tell if other mercenaries felt the same - if they did, they hid it well, better than he did.

Sniper spawned into Gorge with a tense body. His fingers pressed into the cold, hard wood of his rifle as he awaited the restrictive hold of an aimbot. He had his eyes closed, to savour the last moments before his eyes would become the epicentres of pain in his body. Sniper knew he was in his stock set, and that usually meant his impending fate of being a toy for his controller.

But nothing happened.

A hesitant push on the ‘W’ key. Sniper stepped gingerly forward, and stopped when they released their finger. He gazed upward to the brim of his hat, questioning their intentions.

_“If you’re gonna use your bloody cheats, do it already.”_ Sniper bitterly said, despite knowing it was fruitless. _“Oi’d rather not get hopeful.”_

But they didn't do that. Instead, they rotated Sniper's torso around, as they guided Sniper to look around the cluttered RED spawn. He moved slowly, and he felt his user move their mouse in long drags across their mousepad. He grumbled impatiently as mercs respawned and ran past him, wanting to get into the heat of the battle.

The round was already underway, and Sniper couldn’t understand why his player was still merely walking him around the RED spawn. They examined everything, all of the props, and repeatedly made him touch and close the Refill cabinet a few times.

At last, he finally took his steps outside of spawn, almost like a little bird learning how to fly. He headed through the base, past the final point to stand near the entrance, peeking at the first capture point.

_“If you’re gonna use your cheats, now’s the time.”_ Sniper flatly grunted, as he lifted his rifle to his face and began to aim at the players on the point. They hadn’t seemed to have noticed him or his player. “I’m gonna plant one right between your eyes, ya punter.” He whispered automatically to himself, and his player.

_**Boom!** _

_“Aww, piss.”_ Sniper thought as the shot whizzed past their ears. _“Crikey!”_ Sniper was propelled to run backwards as rockets came flying at him, cursing as he heard them cap the point. He was prompted to pull out his SMG and the retreating marksman shared in his player’s panic as he fired off random shots at the entrance way. A Demoman and a Medic stormed in and Sniper’s eyes almost bulged. He swore the Demoman had a big shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

Sniper supposed that answered his question of whether others were in the same state as him.

_“No, no no, what’re ya doing, ya bugger?!”_ Sniper called as his user pulled up his rifle and wildly aimed for the strafing Medic. As he expected, he blew up from a Demoman pill before he could even squeeze the trigger.

Sniper respawned and his player immediately pushed him to move forward, determined for revenge. He headed out and saw a fight happening in the tiled warehouse area, right in his sights. A RED Scout was busy fending off the very same Demo/Medic duo. Just as he thought of how satisfying the circumstances were, his rifle was lifted up as if the player read his mind.

“You better hold on t’yer head, mate.” Sniper whispered, as his sights locked onto the Medic who was standing around. 

_**Boom!** _

“Pssst… hehehehe.” Sniper smirked upon the kill, reloading his rifle. Unfortunately, the RED Scout fighting the pair quickly took out the Demoman. The support class smiled as he felt his player tap a few keys while he lowered his rifle back to chest level. 'C’ and ‘3’ - the voice command for "Thank you."

“Good on ya, mates!” Sniper said, standing still. He supposed they were new to the whole "first person shooter" genre. To his and the player’s surprise, the Scout responded to them.

“Hey, nice shootin’ there!”

“Thank you!” 

Sniper's thought process immediately stopped in its tracks.That wasn't his voice. It sounded like it came from above his head.

 

It was the voice of his player, thanking the Scout for a simple comment.

Sniper chuckled, a real chuckle, something he hadn’t let out in a while. Ohh, this player. This player. He continued to feel the airy warmth of satisfaction of a kill as they typed on their keyboard - perhaps too shy to say anything further on voice chat?

"i'm still not very good at the game so i'm sorry if i fuck up" They wrote.

_"No need for apologisin', mate."_ Sniper let out a content huff, an almost tender smile on his face as he adored his player's user's antics. _"We've all been there."_

Sniper found himself having fun as he played several rounds under the care of this new player. He found himself smiling almost all the time - no matter what was coming his way. He just had to be reminded of what a real, genuine new player felt like, and their pure enjoyment of the game worked wonders in his head. The hours flew by and he was almost sad when they signed off.

“I gotta go now. Thanks for the good game, everyone!” His player said, signing off once the round had finished. The match had ended on a victory and Sniper was too elated to realise he had been at it for hours.

As the marksman sank in relief into the darkness after his eventful time out in the battlegrounds of Gorge and other capture point maps, he reflected upon his experiences.

It can be very hard to forget the negatives. Sniper knew that the memories of aimbots and pain and terror would stay with him for a very long time, and be the first things he would think of when spawning into a game.

But there are indeed good players out there. He treasured the interaction they got to share, him and his user, even if the feelings were never mutual.

_"Oi can't wait to play again, mate. See ya around."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for this adventure! I know it's a very short story, but I thank you for reading and for all the support you've given me. I'll consider doing a bonus chapter on other things Sniper could react to, like the nametags on his rifles or a ridiculous community server. I don't get on TF2 much, but my Steam name is DarkenWing and I'd love to play with you all!
> 
> Please remember to leave kudos and perhaps even a comment, as always!

**Author's Note:**

> This work does not condone aimbots, hacking, or cheating in any way.


End file.
